


Seer, Sailor, Warden, Witch

by Hallianna



Series: Mage, Warden, Fadewalker [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Antivan Crows, Antivan Culture and Customs, Antivans, Dark Magic, F/F, F/M, Fade Dreams, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Magic, Multi, Rivain (Dragon Age), Rivaini People, Seers, Smut, The Fade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28826586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallianna/pseuds/Hallianna
Summary: Part 2 of the Mage, Warden, Fadewalker seriesWith the Archdemon defeated, Sia and Zevran journey to Antiva and Rivain in search of Wardens who went missing after the Fifth Blight. But they've a quest for Sia as well -to find the hill witches and seers who populate the forests and marshes. They say the trees hold ancient magic and ties to the Fade, and the people who live amongst them have rare talents. If Sia has any hope of breaking the bond with Revas and Nan, she may find the solution across the ocean.
Relationships: Alistair/Zevran Arainai/Female Warden, Female Amell/Zevran Arainai, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden, Zevran Arainai/Isabela/Female Warden, Zevran Arainai/Leliana/Female Warden
Series: Mage, Warden, Fadewalker [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108013
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will make no sense if you don’t read the first part! I warped and changed and created new history based off the Fade and how it ties to certain mages.
> 
> Most of this takes place leading up to the events of DAII (and a bit during/after). This won’t be as long as The Taste of Ashes, and will lead directly to a story during the events of DA:I, meaning Sia and Cullen will reunite.

_ Two days out from Antiva City, onboard Her Lady’s Pleasure _

Sia leaned on the railing and watched the deep blue waves crash against the side of the ship. Nearly a week on the ocean and she’d yet to tire of the fascination. Ferelden, for all its beauty, was starkly landlocked; even its pristine lakes and thick pine forests were no match for the raw, unbridled ferocity of the sea.

“Thought I’d find you out here.” Rum, sweat, spice. A distinctly deep floral note - magnolia, or wisteria, something heady and lush. All of it very Isabela. “Can’t hardly tear you away from the deck.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Sia admitted, her gaze already going distant as she watched the waves bob, their white caps frothing. She had no comparisons for the majestic beauty of such a sight, but there was something primal about its lure.

Isabela sighed and put her chin in her hand as she braced her elbow on the railing. “I know. It’s...captivating. All these years at sea and I’ve never grown bored of it.” She grinned, the gold stud in her chin winking at Sia. “It’s too bad you two won’t go with me to the north. We could have quite an adventure.”

Sia’s grin dropped and she gripped the railing tighter. What lay beyond her homeland was hope. And the unknown. Wardens and hill witches and the Rivania seers and Zevran’s homeland were all waiting on the other side of the ocean. Sia sought answers and more Wardens, but both could easily elude her.

_ What happens if we can’t find what we seek, mi amor? _

_ I don’t know, Zevran. At some point, my….passenger is going to show back up. When they do, I may have a reckoning to deal with. _

_ And the Wardens? _

_ I have a duty there as well. You are not bound to what I am. You….you do not have to stay. I would never hold you to what I am called to do. _

_ Sia, my love. I swore to fight for you. I swore to protect you. I never swore to love you. That came freely, and so I give it to you. I will always be by your side, no matter where you go. _

_ Thank you, Zevran. My heart. _

_ For you, anything. _

“That is the glumest face I’ve seen in quite some time.” Isabela was suddenly very close, her hip brushing Sia’s in a familiar, intimate way. “Zevran?”

Sia bit her lip, trying to not lean into the scent and warmth wrapping around her. “Napping in our cabin.”

“Hmmm. Inviting.” Long black hair brushed Sia’s shoulder. A hand gently rested on the small of her back. “I do love them when they’re sleep-warmed and lazy. Makes them so….pliable.”

“And to think all this time I’d resisted the pull of such a beautiful woman,” Sia murmured, her voice almost swallowed by the waves that crashed around them. “I know you and Zev have been together. I’m curious how much you remember about him.”

Isabela grinned sharply. “How could I forget such a man? He saved me, gave me another chance at life.” She spread her arms wide. “And I’ve a ship! And a crew! The freedom of the ocean, the spray of salt on my face, wind in my hair.” The hand came back down on Sia, daring to skate just a bit lower this time. “And such fine, fine company.”

She was  _ so close _ . Sia watched those deep brown eyes sparkle with mischief and felt herself be pulled in by the untamed beauty of the woman in front of her. “Yes?” She whispered, daring to lean in.

“Not here, love.” Isabela tapped a finger on Sia’s lips. “Never in front of the crew.” She gave Sia a playful shove. “I’ll be by tonight. Once I know we’re clear of these waves, I’ll knock.”

Sia fought to not sway into Isabela’s strong arms, letting the motion of the ship carry her back a few feet before she turned and headed to her cabin. The ship was vast, housing near fifty crew plus cargo (though what cargo she didn’t dare to ask). The little cabin she shared with Zevran was barely big enough for a bed, table, and small washstand, but it was enough. As she slipped inside their room and closed the door with a soft click, she let her gaze rake over the man on the bed.

Zevran was curled on his side, one hand under the pillow while the other rested on the mattress. He was shirtless and wearing only loose linen pants against the warmth of the climate they sailed into. The open window let in the breeze and it stirred his hair, which was spread out over the pillows. Sia traced the lines of the tattoos on his arm and side, the tips of the one that followed his left hip. She knew them all intimately, having followed their curls with her fingers and lips.

Quickly shucking her robes, she tucked in behind him and buried her face in his neck. He sighed against her, leaning into her body and pressing his behind into the cradle of her hips. “We’ve a visitor tonight,” she whispered. “Unless you mind.”

“Hmmm, not at all,” he mumbled sleepily. “I was hoping I’d wake up to a surprise and you gave me two.”

“Two?”

“The feel of you against me, and the promise of our dear captain gracing us with her presence.”

Sia chuckled and tightened her grip on him. “She says she sails for the Free Marches after our little jaunt to Rivain. It’s good to know we’ve a captain to call on if we need to sail again.”

“Yes. Especially one as good as Isabela.” Zevran turned in her arms to face her. “All talk of sexy pirates aside, I wanted to ask you something.” His expression grew serious and he reached out to run his fingers over her jaw. “These Rivani seers are known for their magic, but also their isolation. We will likely not be welcome in their enclaves unless we make an offering.”

“Any suggestions?”

“Pearls, jewels. Or, barring our ability to get those, the head of a large elk or bear.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Their ways are tied to the lands, mi amor. If you show them you can hunt, they will respect your ferocity.”

“Well aren’t you full of ideas.” Sia leaned in, brushed her lips against his. “That is very sexy, Zevran.”

“Oh?” He did something athletic and impressive and was suddenly over her, braced on his hands. “Allow me to show you a few more things I think you’ll find very sexy.”


	2. Chapter 2

Alistair collapsed in the corner chair with a gusty sigh. Or, he tried to. The ceremonial armor he wore every day - _every damn day_ \- dug into his hip and he grimaced, stood, then pulled off the offending piece. And if one piece was coming off, the whole thing was going, too.

Twenty minutes later he was cold, grouchy, and starving. He’d only started out grouchy and starving. “Alistair? Do you have a moment?” Leliana poked her head into the partially open door, saw him glaring at his armor on the floor, and held back a snicker. “Should I come back?”

He whirled, eyes bright and two spots of color high on his cheeks. “I think I want to take this armor outside and dress one of the training dummies up in it. Then beat it with a stick until I feel better.”

She hissed in sympathy. “The ambassador from Orlais?”

“The ambassador from Orlais.” He swiped a hand down his face, wrinkling his nose at how dry his skin was. “I’m glad you were there for most of it.”

Now she came into the room properly, dodging the errant pile of armor, and pulled the servant’s bell near the fireplace. “Come on. Let’s get you fed before you decide chucking armor off the parapets is a good idea.”

He brightened. “Oh, that’s good. We should get bows.”

She tsked. “That armor has been in your family for three generators, Alistair.”

“I’m failing to see how I shouldn’t just get new armor. Or better yet, no armor for walking around in my own damn halls.” Alistair pulled at the starched collar around his neck. “Eamon’s paranoid.”

“And rightfully so.”

Alistair grumbled but she couldn’t make out a specific complaint. Probably _overprotective something something I’m a Warden not a child something something_. She watched as he poured a healthy dose of wine into a goblet and gulped it down. “Maybe go easy on the wine,” she cautioned. “You’ve still two more meetings before you can retire tonight.”

He wrinkled his nose at her. “I’m pretty sure I made you my spymaster and not my keeper.”

Leliana struggled to keep the grin off her face. “And I’m quite sure you’ve had a long, busy day and will have a long, busy night. And someone needs to keep the king on his feet.” She motioned to the room. “I do not see any advisors here.”

“Because I told them to bugger off,” he grumbled into his cup. Their conversation stopped as servants came bustling in with trays of food and more wine, which Leliana tried to wave off despite Alistair making a proclamation about Warden stamina and alcohol.

Once the servants were gone and they were settled in armchairs near the fire, Leliana pulled a slightly crinkled envelope. “Thought you might want this after the day you had.”

The looping scrawl was instantly recognizable and Alistair could barely contain his excitement as he ripped open the letter.

_Alistair -_

_I hope this gets to you all right. Leli certainly has some surly birds in her employ. Little thing tried to bite me._

_(Zevran says I deserved it since the bird somehow knew I wasn’t a fan of it. I say bullshit. That bird was mean.)_

_(Zev also says that birds are far smarter than I realize ….and now a bunch of jokes about crows. I won’t bore you with them.)_

_We’re destined to land in Antiva City in two days. The ocean is actually nice, which is rather surprising given the sheer enormity of it. The waves lull you to sleep at night and the smell of salt air is pleasant. A far cry from mud and wheat and dog. Ferelden this is not. (Zevran says that the sight of a beautiful captain certainly heightens the journey and….I cannot argue with that. Especially since that is a particular bounty you tasted before I.)_

_(Zev wants to compare notes. I don’t know who is more horrible, you or him.)_

_With any luck, we’ll be able to start tracking the missing Wardens the moment we land. The map Eamon was able to secure will go a long way; that and Zev’s knowledge of the city and its inhabitants. There are more than a few leads to follow and we know it won’t be easy, but after an Archdemon…._

_Well, there’s little to stand against us, is there?_

_(Something something “pull on this” Zev joke something something. You get the idea. He’s incorrigible.)_

_We’ll find the Wardens. And the Rivani seers. I haven’t heard from my passengers since the Archdemon battle. I do not know when they will show back up but I do expect it the moment after I’ve let my guard down. Which means I cannot allow that to happen._

_I could say don’t worry about us, or don’t work too hard. But we both know those are hollow platitudes when there are tough days up ahead. I do know that when we’re back, it will be quite the reunion._

_And don’t worry, Leli got her own letter. She and I have plans of our own, you know._

_With love,_

_Sia  
  
_

A smaller piece of paper fell out onto his lap as he folded the letter open completely as he read.

_You did not really think I’d let her send off a letter without slipping in a note of my own?_

_(How does one make a tsk sound on paper? Oh, like that I suppose. Silly me.)_

_You know Sia is not one for overt displays of affection, so I will write for the both of us. We miss you, darling Alistair. And we will continue to miss you even as we galavant about in my beautiful homeland, with the wine and the leather goods and the dark-eyed beauties. We will think of the king back home, all alone on his throne and missing his mage and assassin._

_Allow me to give you something to tide you over. The next time I see you, I’m going to push you up against a wall and kiss you breathless, my hands running over that perfect chest of yours. We’ll let Sia and Leliana watch as I claim your lips like I claim your body, and leave my teeth marks in your shoulder. And by the time I run my hands over your pert little bottom, you’ll be begging for me._

_I promise._

_Be good, my king. And don’t make friends with any other assassins. I’m the horribly jealous type._

_\--Zevran_

Alistair let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and without a bit of self-consciousness, held the letter up to his nose and inhaled. It smelled like Sia - tea and incense and herbs and something that hinted at Zevran’s touch. Smoky and delicious.

“From the look on your face, Zevran wrote something naughty in Sia’s letter?” Leliana leaned forward, eyes shining with mirth.

Alistair cleared his throat. “Ah, um….something like that.”

Her laughter echoed down the hall.

* * *

  
“Ah, my gem. My home.” Zevran spread his arms wide as he walked down the ramp to the docks. “Sia, let me show you all the delights that is this beautiful country.”

Sia couldn’t help but smile at the sudden change in Zevran’s posture. He was truly home, at least in part. While home was now wherever they were, Antiva and its capital would always be special to Zevran, and it made Sia’s heart swell to see him smile so softly as he looked at his surroundings.

She slipped in behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m glad we could make it here. Danger aside, I know you wanted to come back.”

He scoffed gently. “Next to an Archdemon, a few assassins is no danger at all, mi amor.” He breathed in deeply and let it out in a gusty sigh that traveled through his back and up her arms. “We should sightsee for the day. Then tomorrow we can get our hands dirty.”

Sia hooked her chin over his shoulder and tracked the workers hustling to and fro on the docks. Zevran hummed happily, the quiet moment between them stretching out over a few minutes.

Until dark hair and a large feathered hat appeared over Sia’s shoulder. “Look at you two lovebirds,” Isabela teased, sidling close. “So pretty.” She twirled a finger in a loose lock of Sia’s bright red hair with a knowing grin. “I know you’re both fond of my cabin but I happen to have a room at the city’s most exclusive brothel.” The pirate leaned in close, dark eyes twinkling. “You should come.”

Zevran snickered and Sia rolled her eyes, but neither was about to turn down an invitation. “You have a room at The Velvet Curtain?” Zevran asked, eyebrow arched high in disbelief. “They don’t even service Crows there, and it is owned by a Crow.”

Isabela chucked him under the chin and wrapped a hand in Sia’s belt. “You’ve been gone too long, Zev. It’s The Manacle now, and it’s owned by the one and only Madam DeLancey.”

Zevran gaped at her. “You’re shitting me.”

“Not a bit.”

He turned pleading eyes on to Sia. “I owe you a tour.”

She fought to keep the grin off her face and only partially succeeded. “Yes.”

“But….”

“Hmm?”

He sighed again, but this time the sound was pure sex. “Madam DeLancey is the premiere madam in all of Antiva City, and she always said she’d open a place for certain….proclivities. Sia…”

Sia warred with her expression to school it into a neutral mask, but the excitement mixed with sheer _want_ on Zevran’s face was impossible to stare at so sternly. “I trust you, Zev.” She grabbed Isabela’s hand and reeled her into a hard kiss. Isabela grunted in surprise but was quick with her reaction. Which mostly involved a hot slide of lips and that quicksilver tongue.

“Remember what I asked the other night, my little mage?” Isabela purred in Sia’s ear. “I think it’s time we try some restraints.”

* * *

  
“For a place called The Manacle, this is surprisingly -”

“Luxurious?”

Sia glanced at the dark blue, velvet-covered walls, gauzy turquoise, grey, and silver cloths draped over the massive four-poster, and twinkling mage lights strung over almost every surface. “Soft,” she finished, making Isabela grin. “But yes, luxurious too.”

Zevran, already shirtless and sprawled on the bed, clucked at them both. “Ladies. We are here to enjoy ourselves.” His eyes drifted to a large black-lacquered chest on the far side of the room. “And I would like to enjoy one of us tied up against this ridiculously large bed.” He got to his knees, running a hand over his chest. “Me first?”

“Oh Zev, always so, so eager.” Isabela’s voice dropped into a purr as she slinked to his side. “Sia, darling, pick something out. Something pretty for our boy here.”

“Something in satin,” Zevran supplied, leaning into the hand now cupping his jaw.

Sia watched the two of them kiss slowly as Isabela fondled Zevran’s pecs and petted his hair. Chuckling, she turned to the chest but before opening it, she dropped her traveler’s robes to the floor. The heat of their stares seared the skin on her back but she ignored it to make a show of picking through the contents of the chest. Blindfolds, crops, coils of soft satin rope - none of that was surprising. Zevran had been her first lesson in safety in bedsport and they were lessons she’d taken to heart. Now, after time with him and Alistair, she could look at these items and know how they worked, how they felt.

Her hand brushed against something smooth and cool, fabric like water over her fingertips, and she pulled it out. A deep grey bordering on black, the collar and leash were indeed satin, trimmed in velvet, and would absolutely look stunning on Zevran’s skin.

Upon seeing the item in her hand, Zevran moaned his assent while Isabela hummed in appreciation. “You have the _best_ taste,” Isabela breathed, her hands tightening on Zevran’s body. He bucked into that touch, eyes hot on Sia as she padded over to the bed.

She curled around Zevran’s other side, wedging him firmly between their bodies. The tempting curve of his love’s hip called to him, as did the small of Isabela’s back. Soon his hands were occupied as was his mouth as he kissed the side of Sia’s neck. The collar and leash lay on the bed, ignored, while the three of them tangled together, rolling in soft sheets and plush furs that cupped their ocean-weary bodies just so.


	3. Chapter 3

“Brace yourself,” Zevran said in Sia’s ear. “Antivan royalty are not like any others.”

“Which is worse - actually royalty, or merchant princes?”

That got her a cutting grin, flashing like quicksilver over his handsome face. “Consider we have tied a king up in his own bed?”

Sia pulled back her own grin by sheer will. Three of the Antivan merchant princes were headed their way and it wouldn’t do to look like she was mocking them. As instructed, she gave a deep, courtly bow - in the Antivan fashion, of course, with her left foot in front and right arm over the chest - and upon rising, saw one of the merchant princes smiling at her. The other two were busily glaring at Zevran. Sia might as well have not been in the room.

Leliana had sent them off with custom Warden regalia for their diplomatic missions, and Sia was reminded how much she _hated_ proper armor. Her robes never chafed, never got in the way (if they were tailored correctly). But armor bit and pulled, the rasp of leather on metal humming in her ear with every little movement. Zevran’s armor, more muted and bearing the Warden insignia only on the left shoulder, fit him like a glove. Sia had grumbled at him as he put on the dark grey and slate blue leathers, making him laugh and poke one of her greaves.

But she had more important things to worry about than the annoyance of her armor.

“And here we have our emissaries from the Grey Wardens.” The smiling merchant prince was a woman of about sixty, with a shock of silvery hair pulled back into a tight bun. Her face belied her age but her makeup was impeccable. Her clothing was the highest of fashion for Antiva with deep blue trim, a floor-length coat, and the sparkle of silver in her ears and on her fingers and wrists. “I even wore a similar color scheme, in a show of solidarity.”

The three merchant princes led them to a large drawing room where a lavishly set table of drinks and finger foods awaited them. _Antivans do love to show off_ , Zevran had told her. _And they don’t stand much for propriety outside appearances. If we’re alone with the princes, you can speak your mind_.

Once settled on a high-backed couch, Zevran to her left per some strange custom (as he’d been very specific about the courtly oddities she’d have to navigate), Sia eyed the princes closely. Daranna, the older woman who had greeted them, was the power in the room. Canny, wily, and a shrewd negotiator, the Lady Montigue never picked a battle she didn’t know she could win. But she was old blood, politically speaking, and the two beside her were younger, more malleable.

 _And they despise the Crows_ , Zevran had whispered to her before their meeting. _The Crows are a part of every negotiation that involves a hefty sum and yet, these other two will hate me on sight. I think I may have killed one of their uncles._

 _Should we be concerned about poison?_ she’d asked, even more aware that the walls would have many eyes and ears.

_Oh no, not that. An attack after we return to our lodgings? Quite possibly. Which makes the decision to stay at The Manacle all the smarter. A palace is easily infiltrated by those who guard it, but a private business run by Madam DeLancey is nearly impenetrable._

And when Zevran didn’t joke about his use of the word _impenetrable_ , Sia knew he was being quite serious.

The younger merchant princes, Casain Naude and Maja Bellegno, were upstarts of the garden variety. Sia could practically smell the ambition and money on them even if they hadn’t been each wearing a treasury full of gems and impossibly expensive furs and feathers. She let Zevran watch them closely, focusing her attention on Daranna.

“We, of course, may have some ships to lend to the Wardens’ efforts,” Daranna was saying, treating the negotiation for access to Antiva’s ports like an offhanded nicety. “But no negotiation is finished until something is exchanged, of course.”

Sia smiled, all teeth and impunity. “Lady Montigue, what do you want?”

Daranna barked a laugh, her gaze sharpening. Reassessing. “I like you. The few Wardens I’ve met have been all manner of personalities but you are sharp. Like a knife tucked away in a sleeve.” She gave Zevran an appreciative glance. “Ah, if only I were a little younger. We could solve this in the Antivan way.”

Zevran gave her a sly smile. “I’ve not let that stop me before.”

Now Daranna cackled in glee, waving Zevran off with a flash of those silver rings on her hand. “Oh my goodness. You cheeky fucker. I’m old enough to be your grandmother.”

Zevran shrugged and Sia had to fight to keep the laughter at bay. “Again….it’s never stopped me.”

The flirtation between Zevran and Daranna clearly made the other two princes uncomfortable; they shifted in their seats and shot Zevran full of daggers from their eyes. Zevran, for his part, seemed to be paying them no mind at all, leaving Sia to watch them carefully.

She decided to break the ice, even to get a reaction. “And what about the Messers Naude and Bellegno? Do you see value in negotiating with the Wardens and assisting our cause to find our missing members?”

Bellegno was the first to speak, her sharp steel gaze cutting to Sia, contempt curling her lip. “No. There is no Blight, and your _king_ is nothing more than a weak-willed fool who will cave at the first sign of conflict. Antiva needs nothing from Ferelden, least of all the Wardens.” She spat the word “king” like a foul taste.

“A tad harsh, Maja.” Casain’s voice was silky smooth, but his expression was hard. “But she’s not wrong. Wardens haven’t had any major foothold in Antiva since the Fourth Blight, several hundred years ago. They pass through on occasion, like yourselves, but Antiva manages just fine.”

Sia studied them for a moment, blatantly ignoring Zevran and Daranna’s carrying-on. Per the plan, of course. Finally, she said, “Have you ever seen a darkspawn?”

Maja sputtered indignantly. “What? Of course not. Antiva has no darkspawn.”

“But you have adamantine mines.”

Maja rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that.”

Sia smiled indulgently. Like one would at a particularly bright child. The storm that rolled over Maja’s face was priceless, but before she could say anything, Sia said, “And the one that collapsed last week crushed, what….fifteen workers? A tragedy, to be sure. One that definitely didn’t make any kind of news outside the borders.” She leaned in ever so slightly. “Also strange how the bodies of the five miners still missing were found two days ago, their limbs rent from their bodies and the marks of teeth on their flesh. With several sets of jagged footprints leading away.”

“And do not forget the ogre sighting in the mountains where the base of that mine sits.” Zevran’s slide into the conversation was effortlessly smooth. “An ogre suddenly appearing is certainly a concern.”

From the way Maja paled, Sia knew they’d hit the mark. Her family had a large stake in the adamantine mines and worker deaths were never good. Especially not ones that were clearly linked to the appearance of darkspawn. Every bit of information Sia and Alistair had was that, after a Blight, the darkspawn fled back underground, going as deep as they could. But the newly rediscovered thaigs below Orzammar meant they’d push even further away from the site of their now dead Archdemon.

Darkspawn had been seen as far west as Orlais, and then the sightings got more sporadic. Without Wardens to sense them, it left Nevarra, Antiva, Rivain, and the Free Marches wide open to their corruption. And Leliana’s latest missive had been key - her spies reported the adamantine mine collapse and the pieces began to fit together like a lopsided puzzle.

“I think now would be the time to remember who you’re speaking with, child.” Daranna’s voice was cold, stern. “These two faced the Archdemon and lived. And Lady Amell was the one to kill it.”

Sia wanted to correct the prince but decided against it. They’d heard enough rumors - both wildly exaggerated and spurious - to know that few outside actual witnesses to the battle at the top of Fort Drakon actually understood what had happened. Leliana encouraged the growth of the rumors, much to her dismay. Alistair, for his part, was completely fine being the king who assisted in the takedown of the Archdemon, instead of the victor.

Certainly no one knew what had happened _after_ the Archdemon fell. Only a few had seen the bottle and the wisp of soul shoved into it, or the being with jet black hair and one impossibly bright green eye who snatched it out of Sia’s hands and disappeared into thin air.

Revas and Nan had left her alone for months. Months of having her mind clear and her magic her own. When they showed back up, she wanted to be ready.

Daranna’s words rang through the room and Sia knew immediately that the younger princes didn’t have a bloody clue who she was. They heard “Warden” and thought she was another one from Orlais. Or one of the solitary Wardens who wandered the wilds, hunting darkspawn and living off the land. 

They heard “former Crow” and didn’t know it was Zevran. They didn’t understand the things he’d seen. At best, they’d likely thought him a side piece, an easy distraction for the Warden who came calling right after the Blight.

“Magic exists to serve man and never to rule over him.” Sia let a few sparks of blue-green fire off her fingertips. “I haven’t believed in the Chantry since I was a small child. Zevran tells me the Andrastian faith is strong in your lands. Probably more so after the defeat of the Archdemon.” She gave them a knowing smile. “I’m Ferelden, so I know what that’s like. Coming from a land of pious people. The Wardens saved me from the overzealous piousness of the Circle. I’m eternally grateful for that.”

The couch shifted as Zevran leaned back and she forward, watching their faces carefully as she said, “But make no mistake. My homeland nearly burned because the Wardens were ignored, and if you choose the same path, Antiva will suffer. We could be very strong allies, and make Nevarra and Rivain jealous of our rendezvous. But I will take my offer elsewhere if you’ve a mind to ignore it.” 

Sia extinguished the energy in her hand, her fist closing around those little wisps of blue-green. “But I’m also a mage. The one who killed the Archdemon. I don’t have to threaten anyone to get what I want.”

* * *

Daranna’s note came that night, hand-delivered to their room by a liveried courier. Sia opened the envelope with one of Zevran’s daggers, earning her a chuckle. “Looks like we have an agreement with the Montigues and Naudes,” she said, slipping back into bed and holding the letter up for him to read. “The Bellegnos, of course, declined the offer. Which according to Daranna’s note, puts that family at odds with most of the other merchant princes.”

“Lucky for us, the Bellegnos were never good at revenge,” Zevran said, ending his sentence on a sigh as Sia kissed a spot below his jaw. “I am still somewhat amazed they climbed as high as they did on Antiva’s social ladder.”

“Hmmm, makes you wonder what they know. They clearly have some intelligence agents at their disposal.”

Zevran strained against his bonds with a delicious grin that made her shiver. “I do like it when you say things like _intelligence agents_.”

Sia snorted, tucking her face into his neck. “I wonder what else I can say that’s so deeply unsexy but still turn you on.”

“Shall we find out?”

“Let’s.” A pause. “Mabari.”

Zevran snickered. “Ah, now see that might have worked before I’ve shared a tent with one.”

She poked him in the side for his impertinence. “Library.”

“Oooo.” He shuddered. “All those shadowy corners for doing dirty deeds.”

She set her teeth in his shoulder, enjoying the purr that rumbled up from his chest.

* * *

Morrigan stood at a crossroads and peered into the mist. The black branches of the trees sang with some ancient, unknowable song; eerie and resplendent, echoing all around her. The eluvian was opaque and as she stepped before it, nothing shimmered in its watery surface.

“Blast and damnation,” she said, feeling the bile of her words turn her mouth to cotton. “I know I did the ritual correctly.”

Turning, she made her way back to the boulder that served as her altar. The incense was long burned out, and the corpse of the crow that had given its blood would need to be buried. It wouldn’t do to offend whatever lingered in this subspace. Tracing over the glyphs once more with a nub of charcoal, Morrigan didn’t notice the shiver of energy beside her until it was too late.

“That glyph is incorrect.”

Her face a stony mask, she slowly turned to see a vaguely elven man with exaggerated ears, jet black hair, and a bright green eye. _Just one_ , she noted, the bottom of her stomach dropping out. _So Sia’s passenger has found me. And before my work is complete._

“And would you deign to help me fix it?” The stare she gave him was flat, cold. 

He shrugged. “Even with the glyph as it is, you’d still return to your world. Just not in the spot you left.”

Morrigan sniffed. “I don’t fathom dropping to my death or landing in some bog to be eaten by a wyvern.”

That got her a smile. “Do you trust me so little?”

“I’m not the mage you spent a year twisting around your little finger.”

“And yet, I’m here and she is not.” Nan leaned in, green eye glinting wickedly. “Do I detect a note of jealousy? Does one of the Wilds witches wish to touch the forbidden?”

“Please.” She crossed her arms and gave him a haughty look, feeling her hackles rise. Though if it was in the face of his impudent teasing, or because of the energy he radiated, she was unsure.

Nan leaned away, casting his gaze out over the fog-shrouded crossroads. “And it was far more than a year. I’ve been with Sia Amell since she was a baby. Even then she was a beacon of Fade magic. Her parents didn’t realize it, of course, but all the strange things that happened near or in their manor from the time Sia was….oh, three years old, were the result of her burgeoning abilities.”

“Fascinating. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Morrigan had to turn away, had to stop him from talking. Sia was someone she considered to be a friend; one of a few people she trusted completely, and it was a hard fought, harder won thing. That this being haunted her friend’s footsteps was unnerving. Morrigan knew what Sia had told her, but it was all based on this entity’s word and couldn’t be verified.

What if it was a greater demon, or some strange Fade creature? Was he what he said and appeared to be? Plus he had the one thing she’d wanted - the Archdemon’s soul - and having been denied her prize, Morrigan saw Nan, or Revas, or whatever he was, as the enemy.

But she wasn’t foolish enough to pick a fight with an unknown.

Morrigan felt his eyes on her while she worked, and when she corrected the glyph, he grinned. “Too good to talk to me, but still fine with taking my advice. Well, far be it from me to get in your way anymore, witch.”

And then he was gone and Morrigan was blessedly alone once more. But her thoughts roiled and that night, when tucked away in her camp, that one bright green eye would linger in her mind.


End file.
